


why weren't you

by ThisJoyAndI



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, Young Alice and FP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 15:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14357997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisJoyAndI/pseuds/ThisJoyAndI
Summary: (who you swore that you would be?)Alice, FP, and reunions. 'Sometimes, the darkest parts of her thinks that Hal is only with her out of a volatile mixture of guilt and spite.'





	why weren't you

When she is five months gone with Polly, FP leaves the military. She runs into Fred at the grocery store, the baby making her desperate for anything with peppermint in it, and after a few moments of well-meant but meaningless conversation he tells her that he and Mary are going to pick FP up from the airport tomorrow. The look in Fred’s forever eager eyes says what his mouth cannot – “You should come.”

But that part of her life is over now, dead and buried. For god’s sake, she took the fall for FP, trying desperately to protect him from being sent to jail. And for what – so he could leave Riverdale as soon after graduation as he could, so he could risk his life over and over again? What purpose did her actions serve then, aside from her “crime” being splashed all over the pages of the Register? She already hadn’t been good enough for Hal’s family, unable to tell which knife was meant to be used when, and her supposed criminal behaviour had only secured their disapproval. Sometimes, the darkest parts of her thinks that Hal is only with her out of a volatile mixture of guilt and spite – guilt over the part he played in her time at the Sisters; spite at his family and their frequently successful attempts to control his life.

Alice makes some sort of pitiful excuse to Fred and hastens away from him, dress stretched tight over her belly. She showed much earlier with this pregnancy than she did the last, and although she read somewhere that it’s common for second pregnancies to do as such, that knowledge doesn’t comfort her in the slightest. Aside from a handful of people, everyone thinks this is her first pregnancy, and she won’t lie, she’s a little angry that her body is betraying her in such a way.  Her belly is stretching easily, having already done this once before. She craved apples last time, and she managed to build quite a stash up in her sole draw at the Sisters. There is no such need now, not when the gas station is open until eleven and Hal can all too easily be prompted to retrieve some sort of nonsense food for her.

In her haste to escape Fred she can’t decide exactly what peppermint item the baby is craving, so in the end her arms are laden with a tub of peppermint and chocolate chip ice-cream, a peppermint chocolate bar, and a packet of peppermint chocolate biscuits. But not even the simple act of overindulging, wrappers surrounding her as she lies awake in bed as Hal snores beside her, can rid her mouth of the taste of apples.

How old would the baby be now – _seven_? Not a baby anymore then, although that is how she shall forever see him, her memories derived solely from the brief glance the Sisters allowed her before they took him away. Red skin, wailing, with a shock of dark hair. As the clock ticks over to morning, she wonders if it has lightened at all.

 

\--- 

 

Weeks pass, and her belly continues to grow, her tattoo distorted once more by the swelling. Early one Wednesday evening, she leaves Hal working late at the Register in favour of making her way to Pop’s, desperate for the sweetness of a strawberry milkshake and saltiness of an order of fries. But just as soon as she pushes open the door, bell ringing in her wake, there he is, slouched over a burger. One of his numerous leather jackets is stretched tight over his shoulders, his hair closely cropped against his skull, and Alice tries to pretend that the increase in her heartrate is from climbing the short ascent into Pop’s, not from the mere sight of him.

She should turn around and quickly exit, but she can’t. She should go home and ring up for a delivery, or better yet, get Hal to pick her food up, but it’s hardly about that anymore. She hasn’t seen FP in well over a year, and now here he is, right in front of her. The baby kicks, as if encouraging her to move forward. She stands frozen for a moment, before Pop catches sight of her and offers her a jovial wave. Of course, that action makes FP shift in his seat, glancing at her over his shoulder. He looks tired, but whole, no fingers missing, no tick to his jaw. How many nights had she woken in a cold sweat, convinced that he had died? She had been so angry that he had signed up, furious that he would risk his life in such a manner. And she had been so terrified that one day she would hear of his demise, far away from Riverdale, far away from her.

Her feet carry her over to him before she can refute the desire, fingers fidgeting with the wedding band that is now more than a little snug on her left hand. Pop takes her order, and she hopes he understand the haste she is desperately trying to convey with her eyes.

“Alice Smith,” FP drawls. Even though her practical heels and his seated position means she is a little taller than him, she still feels at a disadvantage. Pop must have both burners going, because it feels as though it is sweltering in here.

“Cooper,” she corrects, refusing to give him more than the briefest glance.

He chuckles, shifting in his seat to face her, legs slightly agape. She still doesn’t look. She won’t. “Yeah, I heard about that,” he remarks, wedging a toothpick between his lips. He laughs, almost to himself, and she hates herself for how the sound makes her feel – _alive_. “Really, Ali? Alice Cooper?”

She merely arches an eyebrow, refusing to justify his teasing with any sort of response. She’s fully aware of how ridiculous her married name is. but there was no avoiding it. Hal proposed, she said yes, and it wasn’t like FP was around to stop it. She is tempted to tell him as such, but she swallows the words. “Very original, FP,” is all she says. And then, just to rub salt in the wound, “Lovely to see that the army didn’t mature you any.”

His retort is just as quick, and twice as snarky. “Nice to see impending motherhood hasn’t made you any nicer Ali. Just like last time, if I remember correctly.”

Alice doesn’t know whether she wants to hit him, or kiss him. Probably both. Where is her damned food? The sooner Pop returns with her order, the sooner she can retreat to the safety of her house, the two-storey home she had always dreamed of. Far from the Smith’s rickety trailer in Sunnyside, she falls asleep every night on expensive sheets and wakes every morning to a cup of coffee made from an equally as expensive machine. She clawed her way out of the dirt, tooth and nail, and FP cannot shame her for her actions. She will not let him, not when she paid the ultimate price.

“Grow up, FP,” she spits, pure venom. A hand comes to rest on her belly, the baby turning restlessly inside of her. The other one had been so quiet, so still, that she often feared it had died, weeping hot tears into the itchy pillow provided by the Sisters. This one will never rest, and the constant movement exhausts her. The movement of her hand causes FP’s hand to dart down to her belly, the undeniable barrier between them more solid than her words and his snark could ever be. She is Alice Cooper, she is carrying Hal’s child. She is not his Ali anymore. He has no claim to her, and she has no claim to him. They are only inches apart, and yet the distance between them has never been so great as it now is.

Pop returns with her food and she snatches it swiftly, turning on her heel. She leaves the diner without glancing backwards, but she can still feel FP’s gaze on the back of her head, piercing.

Her tears are hot on her cheeks. It’s because of the hormones, she tells herself but by the time her sobs quieten, her food is cold. She eats it anyway – for the baby.    


End file.
